


Loaded Weapon

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, better fulfil your violence quota techno before your patron deity gets antsy, blood god requires sacrifice, canon-expected amount of violence, its techno after all, just a rewrite of the festival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27961964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Techno probably should have expected that he would be pulled into his role as Pogtopia's 'bigger gun' before too long.
Kudos: 53
Collections: Anonymous





	Loaded Weapon

“I want you to take him out,” Schlatt said, casting a dark look from him to the trapped Tubbo. The blatant fear in the kid’s eyes, somehow even more than it was but a second ago when he was being accused of treason in front of an entire country… Heartbreaking.

His heart sank, and he didn’t even know why he had gotten his hopes up in the first place. Of course he was invited for only one reason. Hell, he was on this server for only one reason. He’s the insurance. The person to get their hands dirty so nobody else has to. The biggest stick. Everyone knew that he was here for the chaos, a weapon only just managed to be pointed in a single direction. 

Wilbur invited him here for slaughter. It seems Schlatt had too. 

His grip was tight, but slightly trembling, on his new crossbow. A firework was loaded into it, a terrifying thing that seemed about ready to explode if it was even looked at wrong. 

Tubbo was looking at him hopelessly. He looked so small, backed up against the blackstone of the throne he was trapped in front of. 

He got a whiff of magma and gunpowder. The cool autumn afternoon seemed suddenly a lot warmer than it was a moment ago. A creature in the back of his head perked up, tasting the air tentatively. It sensed opportunity.

They were right of course, to invite him here. He really was only made for one thing. He did a damn good job at it too, at least. He shouldn’t feel bad about this. Stupid morality, stupid feelings. 

“Tubbo… I’m sorry.” The weapon was hefted up, aimed at his target. “I’ll make it as painless and as colorful as possible.” He owed the kid that much at least, and took aim at his head. With the force of these rockets, he shouldn’t even feel it. Just a moment of blackness before waking up in his bed. Like the whole festival was a bad dream.

The rocket flew true, the sheer explosive energy behind it drowning Tubbo in a corona of light that destroyed the concrete that he had been trapped in. The burning rock hit his armor, hard, but he barely flinched. His gaze was trapped in the microcosm of light and fire that had been trapped against the throne for but a moment. 

His gaze trailed a piece of unidentifiable matter, streaked in red, that flew back at him and hit his crossbow. 

Without even thinking, he shifted its weight and put a hoof forward to touch it. Took a taste of it. Held onto the bow with both hands again. 

Only then did he look to his side and see the crumpled bodies of the president and vice president, bleeding out, suits aflame. Caught in the crossfire, too eager to see the death of the traitor. 

Shock arced through him, far too late to do him any good. He was holding something far more powerful than even he had guessed. The explosion had left but bare bits of where Tubbo used to be, and from the crack in Schlatt’s left horn and the curious angle of one of Quackity’s arms, its clear they were both pushed back with considerable force before being barraged with flaming concrete chips. 

The creature in his head leaped forward as he smelled the cocktail of burned hair, iron, and the tiniest hint of… cooking meat. Blood. The taste he had so thoughtlessly taken before he even realized what he had done cried out. Blood. 

The creature called out in a chorus now. Blood! It’s time! Opportunity! So many enemies, so much prey! And you… You have a weapon! A laugh bubbled up from his throat, starting from the absurdity and then rising in intensity until he was cackling. 

A pearl broke in front of him, and someone appeared. A ball of anger, lunging for him, crying out in pain. Blood! The chorus had a voice added to it as his own was spilled from the slice of the sword caught him. 

( _No, a part of him quickly becoming distant called back. Not that one. I can’t do it to both of them. Someone else._ )

He turned violently, knocking the desperate grip of the kid on his arm free, a laugh rising in a crescendo as he saw the crowd. Perfect seats all lined up in rows. The quiet placidity of a crowd sitting through a speech had dissolved into panic, and the screams and running were all it took for the chorus to bay like hounds on the hunt. (Kill Them All.)

They called him in for one reason, and here he was to fulfill it. He was a one-man apocalypse. And now he’s got the taste for blood. His god calls to him. (Kill Them All.)

He fired another rocket, blasting explosion after explosion into the crowd. People fell, the metal of the chairs turning them into fragment bombs as the rockets crashed into them. Blood (blood! blood!) spilled on the cobbles. He jumped from the stage as the mob cleared out, as bodies littered the ground, as the angry child behind him turned his rage to tearing down the fellow man. (Kill Them All.)

His laugh was incessant now, the sheer elation at how quick - how easy - how painful the deaths were. Blood was everywhere! (blood! blood! blood!)

The god wasn’t sated yet, but it was happy. The slaughter, the panic of the trampling herd faced with a predator had ended - he needed to hunt now if he wanted anything else. He ran through the emptied square, armor kicking up a spray of blood behind him as he took care to step in the puddles where many rivulets ran together from the fallen. 

What was supposed to happen next? He cannot find anyone else to attack in his immediate vicinity… wasn’t there something that was supposed to happen now…?

( _Something called in him. This was the part where you ran away. The plan… What was the plan again…)_

He about-turned away from the stage, towards the docks.


End file.
